The Joker and the Thief
by SinderOne
Summary: Dark Knight alternate ending. Just a bit of writing I did for a project.


_**THE DARK KNIGHT ALTERNATE ENDING**_

_**The final scene of The Dark Knight fades into darkness, the screen holding the black, a suspenseful silence filling the room. The slow uneven inhale and exhale of an unseen character overtakes the silence, followed by a few muffled bumps and the scraping sound of metal on metal. The breathing quietens, the unseen character letting out a questioning grunt. There are a few light footsteps that signal someone entering the space, the footsteps stopping and the sigh of a metal object under slight pressure rings out, the screen slowly fading into a starch white room, where the alternate ending begins.**_

The young girl stood, arms crossed, leaning against the door of the white padded cell, as she had done for twenty minutes.

She stared at the Joker as he sat stiff, strapped in a strait-jacket and restrained to a chair, his make-up wiped clean, his hair tied back.

He looked almost human.

The Joker stared back, assessing the teen, still having no clue of why she was here, and with that, how she was let in.

She was a teenager. A grease-stained jeaned, short brown spiked haired teenager with a lollypop dangling from her mouth, and Arkham Asylum wasn't just a top security prison for the mentally damaged; it was _the _top security prison, holding some of the most notorious gang leaders, mass murderers, and many other hell-bringers.

Including the infamous Joker.

It wasn't a place for school excursions. The cell guards had trouble enough getting in every morning, and it was strictly no civilian access.

And yet, there the girl stood, completely unfazed by the criminal mastermind.

The girl stepped in front of the Joker, looking down at him, sliding one of her hands from the pocket of her black tattered jeans, using it to pull the blood-red lollypop from her mouth.

"I only have _one_ question for you." She began a small smirk to her lips as she twirled the candy.

The Joker smirked, licking his lips, twitching a little. "And that would be?" he asked, his voice strange as he held back a laugh.

"Do you miss toying with the Batman?" she asked, watching closely for any twitch, smirk or sigh.

The Joker looked up to the girl, a smile playing on his lips as he let slip a crazed laugh, the sound dully echoing.

"It's a game I play. But I would..._love_..." he licked his lips, "a final round." He said with another deranged laugh.

The girl nodded, turning on her heel and heading toward the door, placing the lollypop back between her teeth.

The Joker gave a confused look.

"That's...all?" he asked, licking his lips, straining against his metal holds.

The girl stopped, turning her head to her shoulder with a smirk.

"For now." She said simply, placing her hand against the door to push it open, but stopped.

She pulled a small penknife from her pocket, looking down to it.

The girl threw it over her shoulder, the knife landing perfectly in the Joker's lap.

He looked down to it, and then to the girl who pushed the door open, not bothering to look back.

"A small reminder of your..._better_ days." She said, disappearing out the door.

The Joker frowned, looking down to the familiar knife, unable to pick it up because of the restraints.

He sighed, looking to the door that was left ajar.

He tilted his head to the side, spotting the outline of a motionless body through the gap.

The Joker began to realise the...oddity of the situation, noting the very rare silence.

A sudden, high-pitched noise ripped through the silence, tearing the last of the Joker's sanity to shreds in a matter of seconds.

He flinched; the loud, wailing siren echoed through the halls, the blinding white lights of the Joker's cell now flashing red, the hall also being shrouded in darkness, and then lit up by the crimson light, the pattern reoccurring and sparking hysteria throughout the asylum. The man began to lick his lips, pulling against his restraints until they popped open, allowing him to stand, the penknife slipping to the floor.

He looked to the door, seeing cell guards rush past.

"What _are_ you up to?" he asked the empty room, and then looked to the floor.

The Joker stared at the penknife, still restrained by the straight jacket. He bent down awkwardly, grasping the knife between his teeth, and then proceeding to walk out the door and into the hall.

The man stopped, looking left, and then right, spotting an arrow scribbled on the wall in black ink. He shrugged, following the arrow, and the few after it.

The halls were completely empty, allowing the Joker to stroll through, ignoring the pleas to be let out by the other occupants, heading toward the front of the asylum, shouldering open the double doors to the reception.

The siren wailed on, and the flashing lights partially hiding the security guard that stood in the darkened corner.

The guard ran at the Joker, what looked like a machete gripped white-knuckled in his hands. He swung the machete at the Joker, the sinisterly smirking man dodging it with a stiffened laugh.

The guard stumbled a bit, but quickly regained his footing, staring at the Joker.

The guard again swung the machete, the Joker ducking under the glistening blade, popping up just fast enough to head-but the man, tipping his head back, then throwing it forward and thrusting the knife into the guards shoulder.

The guard let out a yelp of pain, doubling over, looking to the Joker with tears in his eyes.

The Joker turned to the door, the guard brining the machete up, the blade slicing through the strait jacket, freeing the Joker's arms.

The Joker spun around, smashing his fist into the guard's nose, smiling with a wild-eyed glee as the guard grabbed for his nose.

The Joker laughed insanely, kicking the guard's stomach hard and watching as the man crashed to the floor, the Joker then bringing his foot down on the guards head, smirking and licking his lips as the guards skull crunched under the pressure.

The siren stopped screeching, it being replaced by a computerised voice beginning a countdown. The red flashing light went dead, the sound of every electronic item powering down sighed through the asylum.

The Joker tilted his head to the side, wondering what the countdown was for. He ripped his knife from the guards shoulder, pushed through the double doors and began an awkward half-run half-walk through the parking lot.

A huge explosion ripped through the asylum, the Joker flinching down, throwing his hands over his head as debris from the collapsing building rocketed by his head, the Joker laughing like the mad man he was.

He stood, deeply breathing in the smell of gasoline and flames, filling his lungs with the almost therapeutic chemical combination.

"Oh, it's good to be out." He said with a growing smirk, beginning to walk away from the twisted and warped remains of the asylum, the taller office building beside it groaning, and then finally cracking under the pressure, collapsing on the asylum, the Joker spinning to watch the dust cloud bloom, screams and shattering materials music to his ears.

The man jumped with glee, clapping his hands together, his deranged laughter ripping through the sounds of destruction.

The distant wailing of police sirens mixed with the chaotic abundance of noise that woke the warm night of Arkham.

A pair of strong, cold hands grabbed the Joker from behind, the Joker clawing at the hands, choking and struggling silently.

The ground dissolved from under the Joker as he was thrown into the back of an ambulance van, his head pounding and the surroundings spinning.

The sharp sound of a gunshot popped the Joker's ears, the man groaning a little as he pulled himself onto his knees, the world now focusing.

He was taken aback by the sight of a man lying in a black-red pool of his own thick blood just out of the van, dead at the fingerless leather gloved hand of the girl, who had now slipped on a black trench coat.

The Joker scrambled to his feet, unable to decide if he was to be amused or scared.

He looked to the girl, who was sat atop a drum of gasoline, throwing the handgun to one of the five black-suited men who stood in the cramped space of the van.

"Idiot..." the girl mumbled, waving for one of the men to close the door, the van's driver throwing the vehicle into a high-speed exit.

The Joker blinked, a smirk growing on his face as he sat, confused to a point of amusement.

The ringtone of a cell phone broke the silence, the girl flicking open the phone and answering.

"Da?" she asked, beginning a conversation in Russian, waving for one of the men to explain the situation.

The man closest handed a folder to the Joker, smirking.

"It's time to talk business." The man said his voice slow and slurred; his gold-toothed shark grin giving the man a sinister touch.


End file.
